Caught in the Rain
by neechan100
Summary: Johnny x O.C. A meeting in the rain percipitates Johnny's outcome.
1. A Walk In the Yard

**A Walk In The Yard**

It was nearly the end of halftime when monstrous storm clouds drifted over the afternoon sky, showering everything and everyone that turned out for the school football game.

"_Dammit_," Dally murmured under his breath. He took off his black pleather jacket and covered his head.

The cold rain hadn't put a damper on the tension simmering in the lower bleachers, where Ron Bradley and the Patton brothers were arguing about a bet they'd made at the start of the game. Steve, Soda and Pony watched the argument with interest, while Two-Bit chewed gum and rested on the bleacher behind him with his elbows propped up, and Johnny closed his eyes as the rain poured over him.

"Deep thoughts, Siddhartha?" Two-Bit asked sarcastically between chews.

Johnny shook his head. "Nah."

"You have no jacket or nothing?" Dally said, frowning. "You'll catch your death."

But Johnny shook his head. "No, I'll be okay. Really." Dally and Two-Bit shrugged and turned their attentions to the fight's prelude. Johnny stood up.

"Where're you going?" Pony asked.

"For a walk," Johnny replied vaguely.

A line of concern rimmed Pony's forehead. His friend was acting weird today, though it was unfathomable, and Pony knew better than to ask something that wasn't his business. (Steve's fists had taught him that.) And if Johnny wanted to keep to himself now he had every right to do that. "You coming for dinner?"

"Yeah. I'll come. See you later, Ponyboy."

--

Johnny walked through the school lot in the rain, which now had drenched his clothes so heavily that they clung to him closer than his own skin. He liked the rain, even if it was cold and he only had a t-shirt. jeans, and tennis shoes to keep him warm. Once, after a bad fight with his father, Johnny ran out the house in the middle of a thunderstorm. It sounded like heaven was fighting a war above his head, but even as the thunder clashed and the streaks of lightening seemed to claw around him, Johnny felt at peace. All his anger was released. He felt cleansed.

Now he felt the need to cleanse himself. For some explicable reason he didn't want to watch the rest of the game or see the fight, whose noise was so loud he could hear it brimming yards away. He just couldn't miss this opportunity to be alone and be thoughtless.

A girl rushed past him with her head down. Something splashed on Johnny's leg; he looked down and saw that she had dropped a small box made of red plastic and shaped in an octagon. Instantly he visualized a stop sign.

The girl didn't notice. She moved past him so fast and so quietly he wouldn't have noticed her unless she dropped the box. Her pace was so hurried she was obviously upset. Her head hung low and her shoulders were hunched. Something was wrong. Johnny picked up the box. _It might be important_, he thought. He ran after her.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!"

The girl turned around. Johnny held the box out to her. "You dropped this."'

"Thank-you." She spoke in a quiet tremble of a voice. Her hands were cold when she took the box from him. Johnny didn't recognize her, and though she was pretty she looked as inconspicuous as a transparent ghost. The rain soaked her shoulder-length, wavy dark-brown hair in skin-clinging strands that framed her long face. She had full lips that might have been beautiful if she smiled. She wore a faded burgundy summer dress over hunched shoulders. And her eyes, though swollen and pink, were a startling shade of light gray, almost like silver, almost like the rain falling around him, transparent so that he could see in her a soul that was not unlike his. It could have been the rain, but she might have also been crying.

She hurried away. Johnny stared after her. She looked very upset. He didn't want to bother her; after all, his friends hadn't bothered him when he wanted a private moment in the rain. And maybe today cleansed her the same way it cleansed him, but it also felt wrong not to offer help.

Johnny ran up to her. "Excuse me, miss." He felt nervous. "Are you okay?"

"What do you want?" she demanded, wiping her eyes.

What a dumb question to ask, he berated himself. Despite his unease Johnny tried to speak calmly. "Name's Johnny," he mumbled, offering his hand, but she just stared at it. "Johnny Cade. Uh…I'm sorry, I look crazy now, but you look upset. I can give you help if you need it." She sniffled and eyed him suspiciously, but he kept speaking. An idea came to his mind.

"Do you want some ice cream?"

Now she looked taken aback. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah. D'you like it?"

"Yes…" she said slowly.

"There's a Dairy Queen over there." He pointed down the street. "I'll get you one, whatever you want."

Her expression hardened. "I don't need your charity."

"It's no charity at all, I swear, honest," he said, waving his hands. Johnny swallowed the nervous swelling in his throat.

She walked past him. "And I don't date either."

He followed her anyway. "But it's not a date. I just wanna help. I got an extra quarter right here. It's just a quarter for two scoops…"

The girl stopped. Her expression was uncertain, but Johnny felt that she just might give in. Finally the girl said, "I guess--I guess it's all right."

--

While the girl sat at a booth by the window in the Dairy Queen, Johnny ordered their ice cream cones--he took two pistachio scoops, while she asked for banana and strawberry. He paid for them and walked over to the booth, and they started talking.

"If I was stuck on an island," Johnny said, "I'd bring a whole ship of this stuff with me."

The girl chuckled. She looked a little cheerful now, though she was still shy. "Me too."

"You like sherbets?"

"Mostly." She asked tentatively, "And you like just pistachio?"

"It's my favorite. But chocolate's good too."

"Yeah. Especially with cherries."

"Or even better--spread between two pieces of bread. Nutella," he explained when she fixed him with a confused expression. "It's the best thing around."

"What is Nutella exactly?"

"Like chocolate butter, call it."

The girl smiled. She had a really pretty smile, Johnny noticed, and when she was cheerful it was hard to recognize her as the same weeping girl walking past him with her head down and her shoulders hunched. "I'd bring my music on the island too," she added shyly. "Do you like music?"

"Yeah. I like Elvis."

"Who doesn't? Have you ever heard 'A Devil In Disguise'?"

They talked more about music until Johnny remembered something. "What's your name?"

"Adrienne Dubose," she mumbled. "I know," she added, "it's an ugly name. You say the 'e' at the end…"

Johnny shook it's head. "No. It's nice. What year are you?"

"Sophomore. And you?"

"Same here."

Her eyes were raised. "You don't look it." She wiped her lips with a napkin.

He flushed, feeling stupid. "I know, people always say that…I wish I looked sixteen." Johnny bit into his cone.

But Adrienne said, "I was gonna say you seemed older." There was a trace of sadness in her voice when she said, "Most of the kids at school act younger, even if they're older."

"Yeah," Johnny agreed. It was true. "But I've never seen you at school, I don't think so."

"I keep to myself. You seem like you have a lot of friends. You're not boring like me."

Johnny told her, "Nah, I'm real quiet too. It's the best way to be; nobody gets in your face, and I have a good gang too. It's not what you think," he quickly added, when her expression obviously showed she had only known unfriendly greasers. "I didn't mean 'gang' in a bad way. Like my friend Ponyboy. We almost never speak but I understand the guy like my twin, and we don't look nothing alike. And his brother Soda--all the girls like him, you hafta know Sodapop. Do you?"

Adrienne's cheeks flushed. "The blonde one?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Oh yes--he's your friend?"

"Yeah."

"And he's a good guy?"

"A real good guy. They have an older brother Darry, and he's the smartest guy I know. Two-Bit's a drunk and he steals but he don't mean no harm at all. Steve--he can be mean, but he's got a rough break at home. I get that," he added quietly, remembering his own rough home life. "And Dally's supposed to be the meanest greaser out there. But he's my brother. They're all my brothers."

A note of worry rose in her voice. "Dally, huh? I think I know him."

Without even knowing how Johnny understood; Dally's rep for trouble ran high and low, far and wide. But he assured her, "Those guys…they're more my family than my own flesh and blood. It's true."

Adrienne nodded sympathetically, though she said nothing.

"Adrienne. If you want, you can tell me what was bothering you if you want. Just to get it off your chest."

She said nothing, but suddenly the cheer was gone from her face and she couldn't look at him. Her eyes were the color of pepper now, soft and gloomy, and they looked away in shame. Johnny glanced at her hand on the table and tentatively put his over hers. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

To his surprise she whispered, "My home's not so good."

"It's okay," he murmured softly. "I got a rough home too. My parents fight all the time…sometimes I feel like I've got nowhere to go but some very dark places I don't even wanna be in."

Adrienne's eyes blinked back tears. Her lips were parted, but she said nothing. Johnny felt useless saying, "It's okay." This girl had nobody to talk to. At least he had a small group of friends he would do anything for and vise versa. He had a family.

"Um, I…. I…" Adrienne's lips began. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Go on," Johnny said softly.

Her hand trembled beneath his. After a few moments, she withdrew it. "Thanks for the ice cream Johnny," Adrienne whispered jerkily. "I'll just be on my way."

And with that she disappeared from the Dairy Queen altogether as though she'd never been present, back in the storm, which swallowed her in a mist of raindrops.

--

Mixed terror and excitement coursed through Adrienne's veins and made her lips tremble, such that she could not the cold air chilling her skin. She went straight from the Dairy Queen to her sanctuary in the back yard--an old white shed, protected with three rows of locks--to which only she could open. Adrienne entered the shed, which housed years of artifacts: old honey jars, a row fishing hooks, a bookshelf crammed on one side of the wall that had everything from Dickens to Steinbeck; there was a cheap porcelain figurine of a china doll stamped Made in Japan, next to an old cot folded over a few paint brushes, a string of brightly colored buttons, a broken typewriter, playing cards, a cracked hand mirror, brushes, shoe polish, a torn bridal veil, and shiny black Wellingtons; then her favorite possessions: a beanbag seated next to a small shelf under the window that kept her record player and a mini-library of records stored in a cardboard box. Adrienne threw herself on the bean bag and absorbed the events of the day. She put on some music--Frank Sinatra's "Somewhere".

Johnny Cade was something else; Adrienne hated people, and most of all, the male race, for the stinging afflictions it had caused her, but Johnny was friendly and she could almost trust him. He made her feel almost as though nothing wrong had happened. And he was nothing like other greasers who used girls for dishonorable purposes. After all, they weren't so different. But she couldn't trust him, and even with his kindness, her mind returned to one thing--the thing that bothered her all day, so much that she wept in class though nobody noticed her (as usual). Her pain could only be relieved by a razor, and she must not let herself go without chastisement when she knew what a corrupted, sick individual she was.

Her hand groped inside the basket next to her and she found the sharp object.

Adrienne's cries were drowned out by the storm outside.


	2. The Ear of Van Gogh

**The Ear of Van Gogh**

Thanks to those of you that reviewed, your opinions are much appreciated! Apologies to those that disliked the cutting; I tried to keep it as brief as possible and only describe enough so that you could understand what she was doing. I dislike the addiction as well but it was necessary as a part of Adrienne's character, though it will be neither a frequent feature nor a graphic one.

Note--the following chapter is a few weeks after the first one, despite appearances. It's title is actually the English translation of a Spanish band one of my old friends listened to, La Oreja de Van Gogh.

I tend to forget disclaimers, so here it is before I'm sued: I don't own _The Outsiders. I just like to write hypothetical situations about the book. Don't sue; that its on this website should be clear enough._

_--_

"It's like Starry Night."

Ponyboy nodded in agreement with Johnny. They lay under the night sky in the neighborhood park. It had just rained; the air was pungent with its refreshing smell. Even with the city lights on, the sky looked just like Van Gogh's pictures. Johnny could imagine the painter dip his brush and spread deep navy blues across a panoramic canvases, dotted with little pieces of glittering silver. His art touched the senses of hearing and smell as well as that of sight, and they were lulled into peace with the songs of rustling leaves, night birds, and crickets.

Johnny heard Ponyboy rustle. He turned his head, facing his friend's scuffed tennis shoes.

"You goin'?" Johnny mumbled.

"Yeah," said Pony. "It's nearly ten. If I get home now Darry won't be upset. Are you gonna spend the night here?"

His instinct was to stay. "Yeah."

"If you need anything, kip over at my place. Take care of yourself."

"You too Ponyboy."

"See ya."

He was gone.

Johnny sighed. He didn't want to go home--Mom was nagging in her shrill voice about the bills, and Dad, though not drunk this time, wasn't good company either. It was hard to believe he felt his own parents were less familiar than strangers, but Johnny had resigned himself to his fate, and as long as he had the gang as his foundation, there was nothing he couldn't do.

He walked around the park, recalling his first childhood memories. His dark eyes studied the merry-go-round. It was last pained sea green probably two or three years ago, as the handles had gone rusty and it eerily wound in the breeze with a high-pitched squeak. Back then he spent more time outside than even now, except when the elements were too cold for him to bear with. Grown-ups in the neighborhood referred to him as "that Cade boy". He was smaller and skinnier than the other greaser kids, he always looked hungry, and he had nobody around him to even look after his hair, which without cuts grew almost to his shoulders and emphasized the bones in his face. But nobody did anything. Johnny learned to be inconspicuous, not only from the low self-esteem his parents' abuse fostered, but from other kids in the neighborhood, who looked on him as an easy target. After all, he was a loner. There were many times Johnny had to hide in the park, near the cemetery, or even in garbage bins to avoid their fists. At least he became a good runner.

That changed one summer day when he was twelve. By then Johnny was a regular smoker, and he often had to steal to get what he needed, though he abhorred doing it. One time he walked across the park and played with a group of boys his around his age who would one day become his best friends. They were nice to him and didn't make fun of his ragged appearance. He played with them the next day, and then the day after that. On the fourth day Mr. and Mrs. Curtis came, and Johnny shrank. Very often grownups talked dirt about him, saying how they didn't want him around their kids, as though oblivious to the fact their children were greasers. But Pony's Dad was the father Johnny craved--he gave the boys pointers and even joined in a couple times. And his Mom was sweet. Johnny remembered how they politely though unassumingly invited him for dinner. He remembered how good Pony's mom made it. She was nothing like his mother, who didn't have the patience to greet him without cursing for the whole street to hear. And though he adored his new friends, he envied them.

A hand rested on his shoulder. Johnny might have jumped--there was a slight possibility a soc was behind him--but its touch was too gentle for that possibility. Johnny turned around. It was Adrienne.

"Did I scare you?" she asked softly.

Tonight she wore a plain tan skirt and sweatshirt over her slender frame, no more impressive than his tee shirt, faded jeans and beat-up tennis shoes. But it was only now that he became aware of the moon because of its reflection in her pale gray eyes. Like the last time they met her eyes had a silver quality that matched the moon's own. Its light gave a soft cast on her skin, which was as smooth as porcelain. The idea of angels falling from heaven sounded corny even to Johnny, who was a deep thinker, but this is the first thought that came to mind when he saw Adrienne. "No," he replied. He wondered if she was alright; he had scared her away last time.

Her full, rosy lips smiled timidly. "I'm sorry." Her cheeks reddened. "It's--it's--just nice to have company…"

"Yeah," Johnny agreed, at a loss for words. "This place can get kinda creepy at night."

After a brief silence she asked, "Do you come here often?"

"In the summertime, mostly. You?"

"When I need space, I do." Adrienne turned her eyes directly to the moon. She walked folded her arms and rubbed them with her hands, lost in an enigmatic thought.

Johnny followed her, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous habit. She glanced at his bare arms and thin t-shirt. "You must be cold…"

"Naw, I'm all right. The cold doesn't bother me none too much." He tried to smile, though he felt foolish. "The last time it was raining, but I was okay. This is just fine. Just fine. Are you okay?"

Before she could reply the merry-go-round gave a loud squeak. Without a word, Adrienne walked towards it, got on its rusting platform, and gestured for Johnny to join her. Johnny blushed, though he hoped his skin was too dark and the streetlights too poorly lit to expose his embarrassment. There was something ethereal about her that made him feel nervous but confident enough to get past the emotion. So Johnny accepted the silent invitation and stood in the spot opposite hers. They grasped the wheel in the center while running the merry-go-round with the power of their feet. It gained speed. Johnny felt a surge of cheerfulness mirrored in the delight on Adrienne's fast. Their game ran faster; Johnny looked at the sky. Van Gogh's canvas was in motion--the stars appeared to circle above his head in streaks of silver, the breeze strengthened, moving the leaves in their wordless symphony.

The merry-go-round gave a loud screech. Johnny felt a sudden jerk pitch him forward into the dirt. Adrienne fell on the other side. His knee was bruised, but he was more than okay; tonight he felt elated. And it was needless to ask if Adrienne was okay, because she still looked happy. Without a word a new companionship had begun.

--

Sorry if it sounds kinda corny, but this is teen romance, and teen romance is corny. Besides, I could've made it even cornier (have we all seen A Walk To Remember?).

Also, those who assume Adrienne is a Mary Sue, please read the conclusion of the previous chapter and keep your head out for future ones. "All that glistens is not gold."

I will try to keep this fic not so centered on Adrienne, and update in a timely fashion.


	3. Sanctuary

**Sanctuary**

The days grew shorter and cooler. Johnny and Adrienne went to the park virtually every night. No two nights were exactly the same, and though the two of them spoke little, they felt closer to each other than two people usually are after such a short amount of time. Adrienne wouldn't talk much about her home life, though she told him a few details. Johnny learned that she lived with her aunt, Rachel, her husband, Uncle Phil, and their twin baby daughters. He noted the indifference with which she mentioned her aunt and uncle. Johnny himself didn't talk about his parents the same way other kids did. There was still much to learn from each other, but both felt as though they knew each other for years. They were more than friends, but neither Johnny nor Adrienne asked

One cool night they met up. Johnny laid out a quilt for them to lie on top of the grass and not get cold. Just as they were about to sit, some distant whoops alarmed them. Adrienne stiffened. Johnny got to his feet. The shouts grew louder. If they were greasers, there was nothing to be worried about. But they weren't. Johnny caught sight of the noisemakers West Side speech, and even the dark he could see that they were dressed like Socs. By the looks of it they were drunk. One of them climbed around the fountain. His silhouette

"We gotta get outta here," Johnny whispered without taking his eyes away from the Socs. "Before they see us."

"Where will we go?" Adrienne asked. Her skin glowed pale in the moonlight, though she didn't look very troubled. Adrienne felt secure with Johnny.

"Uh…the cemetery?" When Johnny wanted a night to himself and the park was occupied by hostile Socs, he might stay in the cemetery. He didn't believe the dead would harm him, but he knew the idea was gruesome for others, and to his relief Adrienne replied, "I won't be too scared if we go together."

Her answer swelled him with a sense of self-esteem. "Let's go."

She rolled up the blanket. They left the park, walked down the street, turned the corner and passed the closed stores down on main street. Minutes later they reached the cemetery, which was dead of sound. Johnny jumped over the fence, then helped Adrienne. As they walked in search of a spot to rest, he felt her cold hands tighten around his arm. "Don't worry," Johnny assured her in whisper. "You'll be all right." It was very cold that night. Johnny wondered if they were crazy enough to have these meeting throughout the winter. He would ask her if she would stay with him at Ponyboy's house, but it was unlikely; Adrienne shrank from other people, especially boys and men. For some reason she did not shrink from Johnny.

"A-are we supposed to put it there?"

Johnny found a spot under a tree beside a headstone and rolled the quilt there. He assured her with a smile. "We'll be fine. Come."

Adrienne looked unsure, but she complied and lay next to him on the quilt, which Johnny pulled over their shoulders. The cemetery was eerily quiet. They didn't have the enjoyment of their usual meetings in the park, which were filled with the quiet music of the night. And they were physically closer than before. Adrienne and Johnny held each other so close they could feel each other's breaths, which released small puffs of condensed steam in the air.

"My parents are buried here," she whispered against his chest.

Johnny raised his eyebrows. "Right here?"

"No, but in the yard."

"Oh. I'm very sorry."

"It's okay. I was five when they died. I really have no memory of them."

"I wish I couldn't remember my folks."

Adrienne's downcast eyes raised a little. There was no moon tonight, and the streetlights were weak, so they appeared so dark a shade of gray that they were almost as dark as Johnny's black eyes. "They don't know how good you are, Johnny. I've never met anybody like you before."

"Me neither." Johnny felt nervous. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he felt stupid just thinking of them! But he tried. "I feel like…I should've known you all my life."

"Are we more than friends?" she asked tentatively, voicing the question on his mind.

"We are," he said, supplying the answer. Without saying so, but both understanding the other, they established their relationship.

"It's getting late. We should get some sleep," Adrienne whispered.

The kiss that followed was unexpected on both parts, but both were too tired to acknowledge their first relationship. They went to sleep.

--

The dreams that haunted Adrienne's sleep melted. She adored Johnny. Only he could make her feel safe to sleep in a cemetery on a cold night. Her heart leapt with excitement when it was understood that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, and when they kissed, she didn't want to sleep. But the bliss was short-lived. Her nightmares resurfaced. Johnny was pure-hearted, the closest being to a saint that she had ever known. If he knew more about her than she could let on, he would be disgusted with her. In Adrienne's dream, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her image broke down in tears. Her only choice was to either lie or not tell him her faults.

It began when she thought she saw two claws reach for her. Adrienne slapped them away. Now another pair of hands--clawless ones--shook her into consciousness.

"Adrienne!"

Her eyes opened to the sky, which was a soft, dreary shade of blue. Johnny's face came to view. "Are you okay?"

Adrienne wouldn't say at first, but finally answered, "Yes." She felt ashamed of the tears that fell from her cheeks like rain fell from clouds. For all her trouble, she had no right to cry. "Yes."

"You were screaming…I'm sorry, but the cops are nearby, and if they saw us…"

"I'm sorry. You must think I'm a fool," she mumbled shamefully.

"No, forget about it." He surprised her by kissing the side of her cheek. It left a warm spot on Adrienne's face that was a reminder of her new joy and old pain. "Let's go, okay? I'll walk you home."

Adrienne clung to Johnny's arm and rested her head against his shoulder as they silently walked towards her house. She clung to the blooming love she had for him. She decided to keep her secrets from him, and hoped they would not run up to catch her. If so, they would ruin her life, and he would not stay with her.

--

As they came up to Adrienne's house, Johnny wondered what evils had happened to his new girlfriend, though he refused to ask her until she was ready. The house was a homely white house, with a low shingled roof, porch, and a rusty mailbox that could have collapsed over its rotten post years ago. Adrienne huddled to his body the entire walk. When they arrived at the driveway, he put his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you scared to go inside?" he asked.

She shook her head silently. Then she added, "I don't like what's inside, so I stay in my shed. I think you'll remember it?"

Johnny did; she'd told him about her shed a while ago. "Oh, yeah. It's back there yonder?"

"Yeah. D'you wanna see…?"

"Okay."

Johnny walked with her to the shed. It was a small white structure, of not much better appearance than the house. Three locks held the door fast to its walls; for what had she felt the need to use so many? Once Adrienne opened them, she pushed the door. He glanced inside, admiring the lazily comfortable appearance inside. She was surrounded by a collection of books, odds and ends, and under the square window, next to her beanbag, he saw the records she treasured so much inside a cardboard box library. She had made this place her own at the cost of shutting the outside world.

"You're welcome here any time," Adrienne murmured. "Just make sure nobody sees you."

"Sure." He grinned shyly. "Well…I'd better get goin'." He kissed her goodbye, then went on his way.

Johnny hadn't known girls very well before. No girl approached him except for once incident when Dally's gal sugared up to him when he was locked up. Steve was not only mad, he was pissed, and offered a long lecture on girls that he and Pony had to endure. But Adrienne was so pure, though melancholic, and she was different from other greaser girls. He didn't feel as nervous around her as he might.

Ten minutes passed before Johnny reached his house. He jammed the key in the back door, which opened to the kitchen, and a very infuriated Mrs. Cade sitting in the corner. Her eyes were bitter, scrutinizing his appearance as though looking for a reason to fight.

"Where you been, Johnny?" she demanded.

"Out, Ma," he replied softly. Immediately his heart quickened. Johnny had learned to manage his mother's rants by one, getting away as soon as possible, and two, keeping his replies equally as short. But that he had arrived home after dawn wasn't what bothered her. He could tell she had a fight with Dad, probably over something stupid. Johnny knew because there was broken glass around the sink, and the house reeked of liquor more than usual.

But Mrs. Cade had fight in her she needed to let out on her son. "Poppycock rubbish! I'm your mother, you think I'm supposed to believe that crap?"

A stinging belt whipped across Johnny's back before he could sidestep her aim. The lick stung, but it didn't hurt as much as her words. The pride with which filled him last night with Adrienne disintegrated in his mother's hateful screams. Mrs. Cade jabbed an accusing finger in his face. "Little liar! Little lying, good-for-nothing garbage-brain of a boy!" She pushed her finger against his temple, hard. "I saw you walkin' around this morning with a girl. Who was the little hussy, hmm? If she gets pregnant, that slut can justwait at the doorstep, 'cause it's my bad lot to deal with you, much less your bastard!"

Johnny bit his lips, but said nothing. He marched upstairs to his room and shut the door.

In own house he was not even entitled to dignity.

--


	4. To Take Lemons And Make Life

**To Take Lemons And Make Life**

After school neither Pony nor the others saw Johnny anymore. Two-Bit was the first one to complain, and now Steve, for all his tactlessness, was complaining the loudest.

"How come we don't see him no more?" he demanded the night after his team had lost the World Series, when the gang hung out at the drive-in movies. Since then, Steve's world was not quite the same. His dark eyes fell on Ponyboy, who pretended to be too interested in the stupid beach movie to answer. "Eh, you hang out with him most. What's up?"

Pony now felt himself forced to give an answer he didn't want to spill. He tried to deflect attention from the subject by taking a bite of his hot dog first and then answering: "He's got a girlfriend."

The others heard: "Heotafurlfren."

"What?" Steve repeated. "Hey idiot, talk to me first before ya eat, will ya? Now speak good and proper."

Pony had no choice but to comply. "He's got a girlfriend."

The statement was quiet enough that he didn't think Dally, Two-Bit, and Soda (who were all distracted) to turn in shock. Steve's mouth fell open, first in surprise, then anger. "After my lecture?!" He swore. "How is she?"

"A nice girl," Ponyboy replied. "Cute." He had seen her once in the park.

"Does she look easy?"

"No. She always has her head down and wears baggy dresses."

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "And you say she's cute? Why haven't I seen her?"

"Mind ya own business, would ya?" Dally complained. Johnny was his pet. "Let the kid do whatever he wanna do."

"He's right," Darry agreed. "And quiet down. Johnny's coming."

Their eyes were averted from the screen to Johnny, who approached his friends with a girl by his side. He barely mustered the power to speak. Ponyboy noticed his ears--the lightest bit of skin on his body--turn scarlet, a sign of embarrassment. "Fellas, this is Adrienne. Adrienne, this is Darry, his brothers Soda and Pony, Dally, Two-Bit, and Steve."

His girlfriend Adrienne acknowledged them with a wave of her long, tapering fingers. The gang took two seconds to appraise her. She was cute, just as Pony understood, but nobody would notice her with her hunched shoulders, awkward posture, and lowered face hidden behind a curtain of luxuriant dark brown hair. Unlike most greaser girls she wore her navy blue skirt just below her knees, and a holed sweater over her short-sleeved blouse. She kept her hands folded in front of her.

"Hiya," said Dally.

Pony noticed that Adrienne's shoulders stiffened. Probably she had seen Dally before he knew she was as good as family; except for the females Dally knew in connection with his friends, he played around with all other girls in whatever manner he liked, and this was something Ponyboy despised. But now he had to be proper to Adrienne; she was Johnny's girlfriend.

Dally's grin faded. "Cat bite your tongue?"

Adrienne finally answered, "Hi." Her voice was barely audible.

Johnny resolved the awkward moment by asking if anybody wanted more snacks; as the pet, he got about ten orders from everybody except Adrienne. Two-Bit eyed a blonde girl in the front seats. Darry watched Soda and Steve play cards, something that happened often when they went to the movies. Ponyboy was pretty much the only one in the gang who watched the movie (even though it was stupid), though from the corner of his eye he saw Dally glancing every now and then at Adrienne.

"So Adrienne," Soda said between shuffling cards, "does Johnnycake talk with you?"

What Ponyboy observed next was a common phenomenon when Soda talked to girls. Their cheeks would usually flush, and their lips smiled at least a little. This is what happened to Adrienne. When they spoke, their voices became either high and girly or low and husky, though Adrienne's reply was a little louder than others before: "Sometimes." Pony also noticed at some point in the conversation, the girls would comb their fingers through their hair or curl them flirtatiously, although Adrienne only touched her naturally curled ends.

Soda grinned. Adrienne's smiled widened. "Sometimes I wonder if that kid can talk at all," Soda admitted. He flitted cards between him and Steve evenly. "You look like the same way." He put a card behind his ear. "Now watch this." He held out the deck to her. "Pick a card, any card, but don't let me see it. When you got that card stuck in your memory, stick it back in the deck."

Adrienne chose a card from the top of the deck, studied it for a few seconds, and put it on top of the deck again. Soda held up a finger. "Now watch." He shuffled through the cards at a furious pace, so fast that it was a blur. He spread them in half, folded them under, spread them across the seat's tray like dominos and flipped them over. A card slid over to Steve. Ponyboy knew his brother was a good shuffler. By the time he stopped, there was no telling what card had been on the top of the deck from the bottom. Finally, he turned the deck over in his palm, and lay it flat on the pavement.

"Now you're gonna think that I must be crazy to find that card," he said. "But I'll bet you my sweaty socks and my quarter, and you can have 'em too, 'cause I've got nothing else to bet." The others burst out laughing. Ponyboy shook his head, chuckling. Soda was too much. With confidence he slipped a card not from the deck but from one of the cards he had dealt to Steve previously. Adrienne raised her eyebrows in confusion. Soda presented her with a Queen of Spades. "Is this it?"

Her expression was shocked. "How--how did you…?"

"A good magician never exposes his secrets. Ain't that's what they all say or something?"

Pony was glad that Adrienne was more comfortable now and proud of his brother's talents. He wished he had the same effect on girls, but if he tried the same thing, they'd probably throw Pepsi in his face and get a kick outta that. Johnny came back with the popcorn, roasted peanuts, and soda. Then he sat between Ponyboy and Adrienne, and the three of them watched the rest of the movie.

--

Dally studied Johnny's girl when she wasn't looking, and she seemed familiar to him, even though she was about as noticeable as thin air. There were some quiet ones like Johnny that could be taken for what they were. But something about this girl put her in the other group of quiet ones Dally knew well on the streets; the kind who might never mutter a peep, then the next thing, cut a Soc to ribbons with his blade. That type was dangerous, no less for girls, who would actually be more dangerous--especially to a type like Johnny.

But he kept his mouth shut. He would just watch, listen, and wait.


	5. Christmas

**Christmas**

Sorry if I'm going to fast with this, but in all the teen movies everything goes fast…and we teens all understand how fast things go in real life too. This chapter is just a time buffer, and I'm also critical of pork :).

P.S. Read and review! I appreciate them very much, and don't be afraid to make constructive criticism, I'm far from perfect.

….

December wasn't as cold as it might have been; Adrienne supposed happily that it was because of the warmth of the love she and Johnny shared. They spent more time now than ever, especially since both had to go to their homes more often and it was too chilly to stay outside in the park. One Friday morning before Christmas break, Johnny left a card in the mailbox. If you want, on Christmas Sunday we can go up to church with Ponyboy and the others, he said. My parents are leaving the house to visit my uncle in the afternoon; there's an extra room for you to stay over. P.S. It's okay if you want to stay instead, it's up to you. Johnny.

She wanted to go.

On Christmas Sunday she waked to Ponyboy's house to meet Johnny, and with Darry and Soda they went to a small white church just outside of town. That it was outside of hoodlum activity didn't mean it was outside of their reach; graffiti marked its concrete foundation, and a few Nativity statues were missing. The service was pleasant, though Adrienne's inward pain ached. Unpleasant thoughts swirled within her. She felt as worthless as her uncle Phil said she was. The service ended in joyful praise of the Savior's birth, which mirrored and even mocked the agony of her foolish past. How she wished she could be as pure as the white snow!

"Are you okay?" Johnny whispered as they walked out of the church.

"Fine," Adrienne lied. She held out a small paper-wrapped package to him. "Merry Christmas."

Johnny smiled shyly. He untied the string and unwrapped the paper. Inside was a yellow jacket; Adrienne had seen him in his old one too many times, as his parents refused to pay for a new one. He hugged her and then gave her a small white box. His gift was a silver bracelet, an old item of his mother's that she neither wore nor wanted anymore. "Thanks, Johnny," she said softly. She didn't feel she deserved this kind gift.

"C'mon Johnnycake, Adrienne," Darry called out from the car.

When they went back to town they had dinner at Ponyboy's, with the rest of the gang. They ate a good Christmas dinner with turkey and roast ham, potatoes, and as usual, Soda's famous chocolate cake. For once Two-Bit passed an opportunity to get drunk, though he and Soda composed an improv Christmas song. The whole time Dallas Winston passed suspicious stares over her, but looked away when she lifted her eyes. He frightened the life out of her, not just because he looked mean, not just because he was the tough kind of hood who'd do anything without regret. His blue eyes were almost as light and transparent as hers, and seemed to have picked up on her unspoken faults and regrets. Without saying a word Adrienne knew Dally did not see her as the nice, shy, quiet girl everyone else--including Johnny--took her for. She must avoid him particularly.

When it was dark and terribly snowy Adrienne and Johnny walked the short distance to Johnny's house. As his parents were still home they had to wait until the house was empty. Minutes passed before Mr. and Mrs. Cade were in the driveway, bickering even as they got in the car and took off. Adrienne and Johnny crossed the street. The wind was terribly frigid and the storm grew worse.

"I tried to tidy up," Johnny said sheepishly as he fumbled with the keys. "My dad, he's not neat and mom…well, here we are."

But Adrienne welcomed the wall of lukewarm air that hit them when they stepped inside. Her nose, when it recovered from its numbness, sensed a strong smell of bleach and lemon air freshener. Johnny closed the door. "Make yourself at home. I'll make coco."

He went to the kitchen. Adrienne sat on the couch. If this was a bad home, Johnny made it seem otherwise. She could almost be fooled. The living room was neat, though a fist-sized hole in the wall gave her an idea what went on here, and not even Johnny's effort could totally erase the faint whiff of strong liquor. It permeated the walls, the carpet, the cushions.

"Here's your coco." He passed her a mug and sat next to her.

"Thanks."

"You okay? You've't looked too good ever since the church…"

She tried to change the subject. "When are your folks coming back?"

"Not 'till the Third Night of Christmas." As in the rest of the day, tomorrow, as well as the morning and afternoon of the day after. "You don't hafta stay…"

"That's not what I mean." Adrienne sighed. "I've'n't remembered a good Christmas…it's just not my time of year, you know?"

Johnny nodded silently. He grasped her hand comfortingly, and though they didn't speak, Adrienne felt a little assurance. But her fears re-ignited. She could find consolation only in Johnny. What if he lost her like she did her parents and her memory of him…disappeared? Or worse--what if he found out about her secrets and left her? The latter sounded worse.

A rush of cold air flooded the living room. Johnny got on his feet, his expression alarmed. Adrienne froze, and she looked to him for protection. She hoped it wasn't his father, or worse, Uncle Phil.

"The boy's in here, Ralph," a shrill female voice called from the vestibule. Luckily the vestibule was between the wall leading to the living room and the kitchen, so Mrs. Cade couldn't see them. "Come on out here and help your father get up them steps, boy! Man's drunk when he's sober," she murmured with irritation.

Johnny pushed her towards the bedrooms. "Hide in my room," he mumbled. "Under the bed…it's the second door right here, I'll come for you soon as I can--"

"Boy I said c'mere! Lousy good for nothing…"

Adrienne found Johnny's room and hid under the bed. His mother was an unusually loud woman, even for this neighborhood. Her voice wasn't deep or strong like a man's but had the same power in its shrillness. She could hear the woman shrieking outside. The door slammed. A man coughed, then cussed, something about the weather. Maybe that's why the Cades turned back, she thought.

The door opened. Adrienne tensed under the mattress. The feet she saw on the threshold definitely belonged to Mrs. Cade.

"Ma, can I just get some rest?" Johnny begged. "Please ma'am?" He walked over to the closet and opened it. "See? Nobody here. I ain't hidin' nobody. Honest."

Though Adrienne couldn't see, she felt Mrs. Cade's sharp gaze wander across the room. "Then whose stuff was it in the living room, huh? Them records and books--explain that to me, boy." There was a sharp slap. Adrienne imagined she hit his head backhanded. "I told you I ain't a simpleton."

"I told you. That was just some stuff I accidentally took from a friend's house. They got my bag there."

"You mean you stole it," Mrs. Cade assessed coldly. But apparently she was a simpleton, because only moments later she left and without checking the bed. Johnny locked the door. He crouched on all fours next to the bed. "You okay?" he whispered.

She nodded. "And you?"

"Nah, I'm good. You can come out now. But we've got to figure a way to get you out safe."

Adrienne slipped out and sat on the floor, her legs folded. Johnny looked worried. "If they see you here, that's it." He drew his thumb across his throat. "Zip. We're done. For now you'll just…you'll just need to set tight."

They killed time with a card game. After the fourth match, three hard knocks almost busted the door from its latch. "Open the door, boy!" Mr. Cade yelled.

Fear seized both of them, especially Adrienne, who was so paralyzed Johnny half-pushed her back under the bed. "Don't be scared," Johnny whispered tenderly between his father's shouts. "I'll be okay. Don't get out for no reason at all."

But even Adrienne could not be assured of this. Her body moved only to shudder after each bang, and she prayed the lock would hold. Then the door exploded off a hinge; another hit undid the lock, and two burly feet stumbled in drunkenly. The stench came over Adrienne's nose as though it had rained liquor.

Mr. Cade's deep voice said, "Where's my money?"

Johnny mumbled, "Haven't got your money sir."

"I left it in--the--the wardrobe," Mr. Cade slurred as though to reassure himself. "Your mother said she didn't take it, so that leaves you. An' whoever messes with my money gets what they get."

"Honest, sir. I didn't take it…"

"Then what 'bout that…that stuff she was talkin' about, huh?" Mr. Cade's voice rumbled above the decibels of a volcano eruption. "You took my money for damned records?" He launched an offense of curses so foul Adrienne couldn't believe she'd heard them. Mr. Cade pushed Johnny into the wall. He was like an overgrown hood!

"WHERE'S MY DAMN MONEY? WHERE?"

The beating was awful. Adrienne cried, even though she could see only glimpses of it, and could feel every blow. Johnny made almost no sound, as though he was without feeling, but eventually his knees buckled and he fell doubled over. Fear made Adrienne delirious. What if Johnny's father killed him? She would be the guilty bystander. And no redemption could make up for it. But she couldn't move, and she was unsure what evil things Mr. Cade might do to her if she made herself known.

The possibility that Johnny might get beaten to death won over her fear of the danger. Adrienne tumbled from under the bed and met Mr. Cade's intoxicated gaze. He wasn't a very big man, and very slight like Johnny himself, but there was no resemblance in his cruel, pink face. He was so drunk he might collapse any minute. His stench overwhelmed her nostrils.

"M-Money's in the b-b-bathroom cupboard s-sir," she whispered.

Mr. Cade straightened his hunched posture. He passed wind. "Oh." Then he stumbled away. Adrienne propped the door back on the wall as well as she could, then helped Johnny to his feet. His face was terribly bruised, but he didn't seem as hurt as she imagined.

"That was crazy," he grunted. "I was afraid he'd hurt you."

"Me too," she said quietly.

"C'mon. Let's get you outta here…"

They rushed past Mr. Cade as he stumbled into the bathroom; Johnny gathered Adrienne's stuff at the door and threw on her coat, hat, and scarf. She felt herself being pushed out the door. Her numbed legs navigated past the gate, through the snow, and into the street. It was cold. Christmas was over. It had stopped snowing, but the rain had begun.


	6. No Need To Be Social

**No Need To Be Social**

Just a buffer...

--

The bare trees first budded and then bloomed into pink and white flowers. It rained now more than ever. One afternoon Adrienne and Johnny didn't spend together because Adrienne had to watch her toddler cousins. It was strange to be separated after months of spending so much time with each other, but once they walked their separate ways, each realized an awkward need for privacy. They promised to meet each other at the park with the gang.

Adrienne hated being in the house when Phil or Rachel were around, but it wasn't so bad if they were gone, like today. All she had to do was feed Natalie and Elizabeth, sit them in front of the T.V., and put them to bed once their eyes drooped. Once Rachel came home Adrienne got up to meet Johnny at the park, taking her keys with her. Just before she stepped out the door, her aunt screamed, "_Phone_!"

Adrienne sighed and went to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hi, Adrienne." It was Ponyboy. His voice was nervous. "I got some bad news. Something happened to Johnny at the park…"

"What? My God, what's going on?"

"He got jumped by some Socs. They cut him up pretty bad…"

"Is he in the hospital?"

"He--he was. The docs just fixed him up, and we took him home. He's okay." Pony struggled to find the words. "But he's shook up."

"I'm coming over."

--

Ponyboy swore the time between the phone call and the time Adrienne arrived was .0001 nanoseconds. The girl could move fast! He sat on the porch, open-mouthed.

"How did you--?" Ponyboy flushed with embarrassment. She didn't give him time to put on a shirt, as his other clothes were spotted with Johnny's blood.

"I don't live to far, just those streets down yonder," she said breathlessly. Then she noticed he was shirtless, but her face was already red from the sprint.

"Sorry--I was changing--"

"It's okay, it's okay…"

"He's in me and Soda's room."

As Ponyboy waited outside, he remembered finding Johnny lying face-up in the field, slashed and beaten so much his friend was barely recognizable. The same way he knew his friend's physical scars would always be there, he also knew inside Johnny would never be the same.

--

One night a few weeks after Johnny was attacked he and Adrienne to the park again. It was around 11 P.M. when their conversation was interrupted by loud scuffles somewhere past the monkeybars. A twinge of alarm made Johnny spring off the spring and unto his feet. If it was a couple greasers passing by, he had nothing to worry about because he was too shut up to have problems with any other greaser, and everybody knew he buddied around with Dallas Winston.

But they weren't. It was a car full of Socs. Johnny put one hand in his pocket and felt for the blade. It couldn't happen again!

"Let's get outta here," Adrienne whispered timidly. "Before they see us--"

But the Socs had already swerved their car around and pulled it next to the swings. Johnny backed up. He felt Adrienne's arm lock around his. He felt hatred and fear so much his heart was about to pound straight outta his chest, but he kept calm enough to watch their sleek movements as they moved out of the car. Three guys, all around fifteen or sixteen years old, in their typical sweaters and madras and collared shirts. One of them was a short stocky guy with a simian appearance and shifty eyes. Another Soc was tall, taller than Johnny, with a sturdy build, curly blond hair. His other body had dark brown hair and a sly grin as he drawled, "What's up, grease?"

These were not the ones Johnny had remembered, and they looked sober, but he felt no less afraid.

"Kinda looks like some greasy white trash to me, Jerry," the short one said to the dark-haired one. His buddies laughed.

"Look, we don't want no trouble," Johnny managed to say without stammering. He could see their faces morph into the Socs that attacked him. He could feel the rings sharply-cut gem rip across his face just thinking of them.

The Socs laughed and cursed. The blond one stepped forward with a taunting glance. The streetlight fell across his face. Johnny saw the kid had green eyes, which studied Adrienne intently.

"Who's this?" he whispered softly.

Johnny saw from the corner of his eye that Adrienne's head was down and her shoulders were hunched. He remembered she was there. It'd be one thing if they attacked him again…but he couldn't stand to see somebody close to him get hurt. But something kept him from reacting yet.

"Your girlfriend?" the others laughed, making lewd jokes. The blonde glowered at them. The park was silent except for Jerry's timid apology, "Sorry, Luke."

Luke smirked, though one could not mistake his disgust. "Adrienne Dubose." His voice hardened. "You don't recognize me?"

Her hand was clammy and shivering. Johnny spoke up again, surprised that a Soc of all people would notice a recluse like Adrienne. "Hey, leave her alone. I told you we don't want trouble. Just leave us be." The tension was making him uncomfortable. The Socs cracked their knuckles and smirked knowingly the same way a cat twitches before a pounce. He would have to act soon. Would he kneed to use the knife?

"You know what," Luke mused tauntingly, "since you're a friend of Adrienne, I'll let you off easy, grease." They advanced.

There was a swish of steel so fast Adrienne cried out. The Socs were stunned. Johnny fixed them with a tough, dangerous look he had seen on Dally. Their opponents backed away, unprepared to deal with weapons. But none of the resolve in the eyes of the Soc Luke disappeared. As they loaded in the car and drove off, Johnny had only one sure feeling--they would be back.

"Johnny Cade, what on earth are you doing?" Adrienne stammered.

He glanced at the open blade, switched it back in, and shoved it in his pocket as though it had never ended up there. "I'm not letting nobody get to me a second time or you."

"You never carried a blade before--"

"Ain't that what it is now?" he demanded hotly, angry that she would question him after they might have gotten away with their lives. "Socs never used to come in greaser turf like this." To emphasize his point, he flipped the blade in his fingers, then flicked it open to the side. "There's nothing they won't do no more. They don't give a straw. Neither do I." He closed and pocketed the knife again.

There was silence.

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck shamefully. He didn't like carrying a blade any more than she did. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've gotten so mad at you. It's not your fault."

"It's okay. I guess you're right." She sat on the ground, with her legs out and her gloomy eyes staring at the dirt. "

He remembered something that had been bugging him before, something that was just not right. "Did you know that Soc? Luke?"

For an instant he saw her face freeze with terror, before replying stiffly, "He goes to our school."

"Senior, he looks like."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You knew him?"

She hunched her shoulders and drew her legs up to her chest. "In freshman year," she began slowly, "Luke got in trouble with this other Soc because they liked the same girl, it was a big fight. You might remember they were kinda rowdier that year."

Johnny couldn't remember vague details like these over long-term, but the best Soc-Grease rumbles were that year. "Yeah, I do."

"For three months me and him were outcasts together. He was very nice. We'd talk and stuff, and he was my first real friend." She took a deep breath. "But I didn't realize he wasn't looking for friendship. He treated me like a thing, y'know, calling my house, following me home, to my classes. I had to come late to class every day and go home at certain times and on different routes so I wouldn't run in to him. Eventually it stopped. I hoped to never see him again." The worry on her face was terrible.

"I doubt he'll come back again."

But to Adrienne Johnny's hope could only be taken as the weatherman's predictions. Despite forecasts, that night had the heaviest rainfall all month.

--

Thanks for the encouragement! ;)

I didn't think there was need to go into detail with the attack, because Pony's POV in the book is sufficient.

Adrienne's secret will remain a secret until updates…coming up soon!


	7. Revelations

**Looking For**

Buffer 2... ;)

I promise it is very short.

--

Most of the spring days were rainy. Sometimes Johnny and Adrienne walked around in the rain like they did the first time they met. But when the park flooded Johnny stayed a couple hours in Adrienne's shed, where he learned more about her daily routine. He was surprised that she rarely ate a hot meal, and when she made herself a plate everybody had to be out the house, otherwise she would steal food from the fridge late at night. (No wonder she was so slender.) Every morning she lit a stick of incense that gave her little space a strange and pungent smell of oranges, gardenia, and cotton flowers. The one electric plug in the shed belonged to her record player, which she used often. But still he had no idea what went on behind the four walls of her house, which she did not consider her home. Occasionally he stayed the night, but was always careful not to let her aunt and uncle see him.

They started talking about very serious things, things that before Johnny was too embarrassed to even think about privately. Eventually he could not tell himself to ignore them. Maybe there was something besides "I love you" and holding hands and kissing, he thought. It was the thing so appealing the movies alluded to it but for public decency couldn't convey it outright. At first they were just thoughts, and then there was somewhat more than kissing, and then Johnny had no choice but to ask Dally's advice.

"You want to _WHAT?!"_

Johnny had hoped Dally's reaction would be calmer. He tried to explain. "So that's a no…"

"You bet your damn mother that's a no!" Dally snapped, though his expression was more shocked and afraid than angry. "I shouldn't be hearing them type of questions from you of all people."

"I heard that stuff hurts." Though from Johnny's personal understanding this was a lie.

Dally composed himself with a frown that compromised tough and brotherly concern. "It'll make you feel good until it doesn't. That stuff has serious consequences. Some broads two-time you. Others end up with a kid that'll be on your hands--if it's yours."

Johnny gulped. "Yessir."

--

After his conversation with the gang pet Dally released his controlled anger into a punch that knocked out the rear-view mirror in Curly Shepherd's bike. He was sure Adrienne had put ideas in Johnny's head! After all, Johnny was soft and vulnerable, especially after the Soc attack. Dally cracked his knuckles and decided this would be the end. He needed to protect Johnny.

--

see next chapter--


	8. Three Eyes Seeing

**Three Eyes Seeing**

Drum-roll…the clues begin to unfold…

--

"_Those who want us, our souls resent them_

_And those whom we want, fate refuses to give us_."

-- Norah Al-Hawshan,

Saudi Arabian Poetess

_**Six Weeks Ago**_

It was almost summer. Dally leaned against the wall of the bar, smoking a cigarette. He wasn't the type to stand outside of anything, but tonight there was some business to take care of. His eyes followed every greaser that came in and out. Finally the one he was looking for walked out.

"Whassup, Walls?"

Dally clapped the hood on the back and shook him with an over-friendly vigor. Walls wheezed. "H-h-hi Dallas." He was tall and about as fat as a greaser could get, which wasn't very big. Every time Dally saw him he got the image of a pug dog or a pig--short nose, redneck skin, round blue eyes and a long, greasy blonde ponytail. "Look, I'll get your m-money when I can--"

"Whoa, whoa." Dally took a long drag on the cigarette. "How about you repay the favor right now, huh? Lemme ask you a couple questions, Walls…"

Walls's pig face relaxed considerably. "Okay."

As they started walking, Dally explained his terms. "It's this broad, you see. Adrienne Dubose. What d'you know about her?"

"You know her too?"

"What about her?"

"Dunno. Not the noticeable type." Walls seemed suspicious about where these questions were leading. "Used to hang around with Socs."

"Ya don't say. Anything else?"

"That's all I know. I know some people, I could find out for ya."

"Then you do that."

--

_**The Next Afternoon**_

At school Adrienne saw him again, more than ever. She wanted to shoot him--couldn't he just get out of her life? Johnny was already worried for her about Luke Johnson, who had the nerve to stalk her again now that he saw her boyfriend.

It reached a head on Friday afternoon, just before the lunch period bell, when Adrienne left her class early to meet Johnny in the cafeteria. Luke stood across the door, leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He wore a black blazer, black tie and collared pink shirt, white jeans and loafers. Adrienne glared at him and walked down the hall. He followed her. Incensed and afraid, Adrienne chewed her fingers and flipped through plans of how to lose him. _Why_ couldn't he leave her alone? Why couldn't he find somebody else?

She turned around the corner and headed into the girls bathroom. It was empty but she was sure he would never cross that boundary. Her fingers didn't so much as touch the stall door's handle when he came in. An envelope slid across the floor and hit her feet.

"My letter," Luke said disdainfully. "And some other stuff. Go on, take it."

Adrienne let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes. "_No_, Luke. Please leave me alone. You've done fine without me for a year." She looked over her shoulder to see if he would leave, but he didn't.

"There's some unfinished business here." He pressed his cigarette butt against the white porcelain sink, leaving a trail of ash and a permanent burn on its smooth surface. The connection between this action and their relationship was ironic.

"I want nothing to do with you. Please go."

Luke taunted her. "How's he going to feel when he finds out about us?"

"He knows, Luke."

"You're a damn liar, you know that? No fella knows his girl does this kinda stuff and shrugs it off like it's nothing, I don't care how nice he is. I'm the only one who gives a damn about you, and you know it. If it weren't for me you'd be dirt, but I guess you really are dirt."

His words cut her like knives. Her voice trembled. "All right, you've every right to be mad 'cause I promised you something I couldn't give in the end. And you've done more for me than my own kin. But I can't do this anymore, Luke. You've got to understand. _It just ain't right_!"

He regarded her without sympathy. "Who's going to stop me?" he laughed. "Dear Uncle Phil and Aunt Rachel?"

Just as she burst into tears he burst into laughter. He loved watching her paranoid insanity. She slapped herself, bit her fingers, scratched her arms. Now that she was vulnerable he could get what he wanted. Luke grabbed Adrienne's wrists and dragged her across the floor. He sat on her legs, leaned forward and whispered over her face, "Your past is catching up with you."

Somehow the need to preserve herself prevailed over everything else. With as much force as she could muster, Adrienne jammed her knee into Luke's groin. He fell over, swearing. She reached for the envelope, stuffed the letter and its contents in her sweater pocket, then ran outside.

--

_**Six Weeks Later**_

On a Saturday night the bar was rowdier than ever. Walls and Dally met up, ordered beers, and started talking. Walls lit a cigarette.

"This was some broad, Dal. Heh."

Dally drummed his fingers against the counter. He knew what was coming. "What'd you find out?"

"Well, according to my sources"--there was a glint of arrogant pride in his eyes--"your buddy's girls hung around with a Soc, Luke Johnson. You might know 'im."

"Johnson. Yeah, I know 'im." Last spring, Johnson almost got his face cut because he tried to fudge with Dally's money at a rodeo, and it was a lot of money he put down too. Dally made sure he got it. That Adrienne associated with Johnson raised Dally's interest. "Before that, it was this big-time Soc in the cinema college, Ralph F. Peters." He cited some other names, enough to make a list. "Feh. Socs don't keep with greases; just 'cause it was two Socs I can only imagine the gold-diggin' gal's been around town. Not for the likes of you, pal."

Dally glared. Walls quickly apologized. "S-sorry--"

"Nice work. Now I want my twenty bucks."

--

Stay tuned!

--


	9. Truth

**Truth**

--

"_La beauté sans virtu est une fleur sans parfum_."

"Beauty without virtue is a flower without perfume."

-- French Proverb

--

Johnny would later remember that night as a typical Saturday night. Darry had a barbeque and the gang came over. While Soda flipped ribs on the grill Johnny, Ponyboy and Two-Bit played an intense game of dominoes between the smoke of their cigarettes and Adrienne's curious eyes. In the backyard Darry, Steve and Tim Shepherd threw a football back and forth. Soda turned up the radio. Elvis Presley's "A Devil in Disguise" was playing. He knocked the cowbell he and Darry had hung on the fence when they were kids.

"OY! COME AN' GET IT!"

But his call came seconds too late. It was after Dally burst into the living room. His face was livid. His eyes and finger pointed accusingly at Adrienne, who looked confused.

"Whachya up to, huh?" he demanded furiously.

Ponyboy asked cautiously, "What're you talking about, Dal? She watched us play dominoes."

"Shut up dumb ass," Dally snapped. And to Adrienne he said, "I know who you really are, you cheap."

"I--I don't know what you mean." Adrienne looked away. She got up. "I don't know what you might've heard about me, but it ain't true."

"Might as well say what you gotta say, Dal," Two-Bit drawled. "Since you plan on makin' accusations."

When Dally spoke, his eyes were on Johnny, who looked between his friend and girlfriend with confusion. "She's a two-timer, Johnny, and a tramp for the Socs."

Adrienne cried. "Shut up!"

"Dally you don't say stuff like that!" Johnny shouted back, visibly upset.

"Well guess what it's the truth. And you can just shut the hell up!" he yelled at her. "If what she says is the truth go on and ask her, Johnny. Ask her about what she knows about Luke Johnson."

Johnny scratched his head. "The Soc who attacked us?" He glanced at Adrienne, who shook her head with her hands clapped over her ears. "He stalked her, Dal. I know Adrienne. She ain't no two-timer."

Everybody in the back yard was coming in. Steve asked, "What's going on?"

"No you don't," Dally said firmly. "Ask her about Ralph Peters. And…" he named some more Socs. "It was for their money."

Adrienne was speechless. Johnny hoped the expression on her face was just plain surprise, not guilt. Her lips quivered. He rubbed her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "It ain't true," Johnny whispered. "No way. You'd never do that stuff. And you can't be two-timin' me. We've been together near every day since we started goin' out. I'd know it. All you hafta tell me is the truth."

The whole house was silent. Unblinking eyes fell on Adrienne. She was crying. To Johnny's horror, she nodded. Nobody said a word except Dally: "I told ya so."

Johnny turned away. Adrienne called after him, but he didn't want to hear it. He walked out the house, closed the gate, and went to the only place that couldn't make him feel worse than he already felt: home.

--

Well, that's the secret--Adrienne is basically a prostitute for the Socs and was involved with it even after she and Johnny were together. But the series is not over yet --


	10. Don't Call Me Delilah

**Don't Call Me Delilah**

--

_Delilah_: a Biblical woman of the Book of Judges, who betrayed her husband Samson's secret in his long hair to his enemies, the Philistines.

--

The living room got real quiet except for Adrienne's whimpers. Her shame naked, she ran out the door practically raining tears and completely opposite from Johnny's quiet exit. Dally muttered dirty swearwords about her. Two-Bit raised his eyebrows. He ventured to speak the unsaid question they were all hesitant to ask. "How'd you find out, Dal?"

Dally jammed his hands in his pockets. "Eh, the first time we met her I knew something was up. I'd seen her a year or two ago, buddying up with these rich Socs." He swore again. "But I kept shut up 'cause I didn't wanna upset Johnny. Then, 'bout two months ago, he asked me if I could give him advice about…" He looked disgusted.

"About what?" Steve said.

Glaring, Dally made a gesture. Shocked apprehension dawned on their faces, and Dally said with justification, "_Exactly._ So I said, 'Nah, I gotta look into this broad.' Only shecould put ideas like that in Johnny's head, and you see how much time they're together. Feh. I asked around, but nobody would tell me nothing, grease or Soc. There were a few who _looked_ like they knew what was up, but wouldn't talk, even when I fisted 'em. In New York, they call it a 'cover-up'.

"So I kept looking. I know this grease who knows _everything_ about _everybody_. In six weeks, he got me everything I needed to now. And that's when I figured it out. That…" he swore again, "put those ideas in Johnny's head to collect money."

This conclusion made confusion. Darry shook his head. "That makes no sense." Ponyboy knew; Johnny probably hadn't seen more than five or six dollars at one time.

But Dally proved his point. "With her being what she is, if you don't pay her bills, she'll make sure her people stomp the nickels outta you. That's what'd she do with Johnny. When he took her 'round us, she got to see we're a gang, that we're the only family that kid's got and we'd do anything for 'im. She'd get her money from us."

Two-Bit shook his head dismissively. "Nah, Dal, we'd just hide Johnny and whip her people raw. No sweat."

"Look, I know how they run prostitution! They just give a damn about the money. They'd rather bust your dumb head in with a pipe--"

Ponyboy watched the cold determination blaze in Dally's pale eyes. It was like he was trying to convince himself he was right. The truth had come out, Ponyboy realized, and nothing that seemed like it was before turned out to be the same afterwards.

--

Dad came home from work late, drunk. Not long after there was a fight. Johnny smoked a couple

cigarettes, then slipped out his bedroom window when he sensed their argument would spill over to his room, disturb the little peace he had and badly needed. He wanted a cigarette but was down to picking up half-used butts on the ground. His head hurt so much, he couldn't think. Everything Steve had told him was true. Girls would get the better of you.

There was only a sliver of the moon, in its last phase before its reappearance. He pushed the merry-go-round and remembered the time he and Adrienne spun around it, having a good time, and then felt the violent urge to push her face in the sandbox. How could he be so stupid for expecting something so good to last? How could he see her as perfect?

Then a wavering voice said behind him, "I c-can explain my-my-myself."

Johnny turned around. "_Git gone_!" he snapped at her.

Her cold hands seized his. "Please!" They tightened.

He hated her. He couldn't take it. Even Dally's warning hadn't changed her appearance as a sweet girl from a troubled life like him. But she was no different, if not worse, than greasy girls who cussed and smoked and whored around in short skirts and open legs, and he could not forget what he learned tonight. Still, the pleading in her tearful eyes was genuine. "You gotta give me a chance to explain!"

"What could you say that could make me forgive you?" he demanded, though reading into her eyes, could tell that there was more to the story than what he heard. "Talk."

Adrienne whimpered. "It's not my fault, I s-swear." She wiped her eyes. "When my parents died, I moved in with my Auntie Rachel. I was five, okay? When I was ten, she got remarried, to my Uncle Phil. Not long after that she had the babies and life got hard because my uncle's job didn't pay too well. But he kept sayin' how pretty I was, and how a…"--she could barely muster the words--"pretty gal like m-myself could find some c-c-c-connections." She looked away in shame. "I was so stupid. One day, not long after I turned thirteen, he s-said he got a date for me with this cute Soc who was about twenty-one.

"I thought I was the luckiest girl in Tulsa. It was an older boy, and a Soc at that. I was so excited" Her voice tightened. "Auntie did my hair and gave me a brand new store-bought dress. I said, 'How can we afford this?' And she said, 'Don't worry about it none.' Uncle drove me to this nice restaurant in a hotel, and the two of us had dinner, just like those nice affairs in _My Fair Lady_ or something. And he was handsome like my uncle promised." She closed her eyes. "Everything…everything just blacked out, I can't remember anything after dinner. It was like that the second time, a week later. The third night they stopped drugging me, and that's when my nightmares began."

It was now that Johnny saw Adrienne's hands were shaking. He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. But she was not done.

"They did it because there was a lot of cash to be made. And soon after the first Soc, I got older ones, uglier ones, it didn't matter, long as they had the money. The only one who treated me half-decent was Luke Johnson."

"Luke Johnson?"

"Uh-huh." Adrienne smiled bitterly. "This was last year. I was sick of it, and he didn't get mad when I didn't want to go all the way. It was just my freshman year and I was already the school whore," she said tearfully. "But Luke beat up everybody who talked about me and paid off people to keep quiet. I started keeping to myself. After that, I broke it off with him, and I told my uncle if he wants a whore to make money for him he should go to hell and find one.

"But there were times, Johnny, we weren't together and I had to do things with clients--not all the way and only once in a while, at least so that they won't chuck me out, at least so my little cousins could eat. It's the truth, I swear." She looked at him fearfully. "I can understand why you're so mad. But how could I tell you something like that? You would never accept me."

Listening to Adrienne's story reminded Johnny of the first day they met, when he could see through her long dark brown hair and pale gray eyes, when he realized they were two kinds of the same soul. To not accept her now, even after everything he knew, would be like rejecting himself. He hugged her. She cried in his shirt. A streetlight went out. Johnny kissed her.

And then things went on from there.

--

I feel really awkward writing and publishing romantic scenes, or even saying sex outright…if I confused anyone with talking around a lot, sorry! Though it least it keeps the fic rated T, and I'd hate for some kid on who just read The Outsiders in their 5th grade class to find a descriptive scene or know more than they should know.

But if you see something like "and then things went on from there" it means sex, and these things may have consequences in the future (for both Adrienne and Johnny AND real life--abstain until marriage, ppl! Chastity rocks!)

Your encouragement is really helpful! I think Caught in the Rain will last a few more chapters, so stay tuned J!


	11. Down Came The Rain

**Down Came The Rain**

Sorry for the long update…I've been extremely busy and some priorities have interfered with my fic…

Without further ado…

--

It was extremely humid for an autumn morning, especially inside the white shed in the Dubose's backyard, which was not meant as a living quarters. Drizzle pattered on its windowsill. Adrienne opened her eyes. Johnny was already awake, though lay next to her almost completely still.

"You hungry?" she asked.

Johnny shrugged. Adrienne pulled the sheet around her naked waist, reached for a tin container high on the shelf and set it on the comforter. Johnny opened it and pulled out some Ovaltine cookies, the only thing Adrienne could get from the fridge last night, but he hardly ate. He wore a very isolating, pensive look he'd acquired since the incident with the Socs. Adrienne could tell he was troubled but he never talked about it.

"What's on your mind, Adrienne?"

She looked up from her half-chewed cookie with surprise. Did she look as troubled as he did? "I--I should ask you," she mumbled.

He shook his head. "I wish we could live better than this."

Adrienne flushed with embarrassment. What did he mean? She knew. No matter how many times they could say, "I love you," at the end of the day, she was a whore, the property of her aunt and uncle's wicked venture. There was no way she could share what had been on her mind for a time now.

"It ain't your fault," he assured her. "I just don't like the way the world is anymore…with the Socs…and greasers…there's no way regular people can be people, unless you go far away. Even you and me." Adrienne tried to hide the hurt in her face. "The right thing to do is just to leave everybody"--by this she knew he meant their relatives--"and get m--"

"Aw, Johnny, stop talking like that," Adrienne said with agitation, though she knew he was right. "I'm sorry. But it's impossible."

"But we gotta do something." Other than meeting up in the shed, he meant.

"We gotta take it one step at a time, I think."

Johnny looked at his hands. "We will. I promise."

The tenseness in Adrienne's back didn't relax. For her to agree to his suggestion would be unfair to him. There was no way they could manage a marriage, though it was necessary. Adrienne chewed on her fingernail. She was distressed. Johnny put on his socks and asked, "D'you wanna go on up to the Dairy Queen?"

Adrienne shook her head. She felt sick.

"The park?" She declined. "The movies?" She shook her head again. "How about later on? We can go to the rodeo or the drive-in with Dally and Ponyboy, whatever you want."

"No."

"D'you wanna talk about what's bothering you."

"I've got an appointment."

"Oh. Sorry/" Johnny understood this meant her client. It troubled him deeply, but he kept his mouth shut about it because Adrienne insisted, or else he would have confronted her aunt and uncle. And in any case, Adrienne wasn't bedding her client anymore, but this came about only after threatening to file charges and withstanding many, many nights of beatings. "It' okay. Just…come by late tonight, okay? I'll tell you later."

"'Course I will." He put on his shirt, then his trousers. Without saying goodbye, he left.

As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, Adrienne retched sick in a sand bucket. She glanced at the razor, but decided against using it. There was a time that thing would solve her problems, but these days were over. She was a big girl now.

--

After the appointment Adrienne went to the shed and waited for Johnny, but he didn't come. She went to sleep, and the next morning woke up alone. Something was fishy; Adrienne could feel it. She decided to go to his house. As she passed along the street, she noticed the cops had pulled up to the driveway. _Maybe they'll finally get mewed up in jail_, she thought disdainfully, _'cause that's where they belong._ But she took care to walk quickly before Mrs. Cade opened the door, though before she could get away the bitter woman eyed her and Adrienne felt an involuntary seizure of panic, such that she didn't see Sodapop coming her way.

Adrienne apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Sodapop assured her with one of his handsome grins, though she instantly noticed the troubled look beneath his calm face. "Where're you headed to?"

"Actually, to see y'all. I was supposed to meet Johnny the other night…and…" Then something clicked in her mind, like a switch. She looked from the police to Mrs. Cade to Sodapop's face and panicked. "Oh my God, what's happened?"

He lit a cigarette. "Calm down, will you? The fuzz is here." He sounded a little agitated. They walked down a side street before he started talking. "Johnny and Ponyboy ran away. Ponyboy didn't come home until 2 AM. Darry blew his top, and the kid ran away, just like that. That was the last time we saw him, and we didn't have a clue where he was or what happened after that. Then the fuzz showed up this morning and said the two of them were involved in a murder. It was a Soc, Adrienne. They killed a Soc and ran it out of town."

Sodapop was stoic. Adrienne looked away in shame and worry. Whatever happened, Johnny wasn't a killer, and neither was Ponyboy. But what would happen to them when they got caught?

"Nobody has any idea?"

Soda ran a hand down his face. "Dally. But he won't say a word."

_I need to talk to him. I need to see him. I need to know he's all right. I need to talk to him._ Johnny's welfare dominated her thoughts to the point of irrationality. She would do anything, even beat the living crap out of Dallas Winston, to know where her boyfriend was and what happened to him.

--

Sodapop was worried. Adrienne fidgeted and spoke to him with such agitation that it jolted him from his weary, anxious thought. Something was wrong. "You're just a bundle of nerves, Adrienne…calm yourself."

"Where's Dally?"

He understood. "Dally's not saying anything." _Least of all, to you, Sodapop decided. He could look through her pale gray eyes hidden behind a shy personality and dark brown hair, and by this he could see the reason Johnny liked her. But she was definitely a little mental, and he didn't want her to get hurt, for her own sake as well as Johnny's. "Don't go to him, Adrienne." In any case, Dally had told Sodapop nothing._

"_I'll find him," she snapped fiercely._

_--_

_Next chapter--Adrienne confronts Dally, Johnny and Ponyboy talk._

_Will update as soon as I can!_


	12. The Fifth Day

**The Fifth Day**

Hee-hee, this is a bit of a spin-off and may be part of a new fic. It can't be all Johnny, now can it?

--

The fifth day after Johnny and Ponyboy ran off, Dally decided to head up to the church and see them. Before he even touched the door, he spotted Adrienne around the corner.

"Shit," he cursed, quickly jumping inside and forcing the ignition. It couldn't have been a worse time for the vehicle to seize up. The engine sputtered, but nothing happened. Adrienne jumped into the passenger seat. Dally swore.

"_Get the hell out_!" he whispered sharply.

"I'm going with you because I know where you're going!" she snapped back.

He could have forced her out, or even cussed her out. He wanted to but at the end of the day, she day still Johnny's girlfriend. If she was anyone else, it would be very different.

Therefore Adrienne became a passenger.

Dally eyed her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Annoying, but he had to admit she was fine--and even better, naïve. She didn't say a peep the whole trip. The expression in her soft gray eyes was anxious. Anxiousness tensed her fine cheekbones, smooth shoulders, and full lips. He couldn't see the exact kind of person Johnny was in her, because she was obviously flawed, but for the first time since they met Dally felt an ounce of sympathy for her. Even whores did what they did because they didn't have nobody. Even he could understand that.

--

At nine Darry and Sodapop left for work, the same as always. Soda drove this time.

"D'you want me to go to the precinct later?" Soda offered. "I'm getting off early."

"Nah, I'll do it," Darry replied. He folded his arms and looked away. Nothing like this happened with Mom and Dad. Their life wasn't perfect--far from it, actually--but since Darry assumed the role as head of household, there was not one day he felt confident enough to accomplish 1 of what Dad did. Dad didn't lose his head like that. It was Darry's fault Ponyboy was in the middle of anywhere, with Johnny as well, and both of them facing murder charges. If only he hadn't slapped his brother…

"Listen, Darry." Soda's voice rang out loud and clear. "It ain't your fault."

Darry looked at his kid brother, startled. It was times like these especially Sodapop came off exactly like Dad. And nothing even Sodapop could say would comfort the worry…

"Later."

He drove to some office at a school in the middle-class suburbs, where he was supposed to paint a mural in a conference room that would "inspire" employees to put in their best efforts. Darry had several outlines to go over before laying down the first layer. It was hard to concentrate with his mind on Ponyboy. The clock ticked at a painfully slow rate. He felt his hand smack Ponyboy's cheek. He felt a strip of paint dry crustily on his wrist. He heard Ponyboy say, "Don't yell at my brother!" between the laughter of the secretaries in the cubicles nearby. Darry saw a smudge in the outline and cussed, because he almost had to start over again. He saw Ponyboy's empty bedroom and shook his head at the notion that his home was falling apart. The ache intensified to the point that he had to close his eyes tightly…he didn't want tears to come out like rain, or any tears, for that matter. He couldn't stand himself anymore. Maybe he oughta take the car and drive off to Texas so he could find Ponyboy.

The door opened, and one of the secretaries walked in. Darry looked over his shoulder and tried to compose himself, but his expression didn't sober up as fast as he wanted to. The secretary didn't seem to notice. "Hi. It's lunchtime…just wanted to save something for you…they're always throwing food out here."

"Oh." Darry was relieved she either couldn't read her expression or refused to comment on it; the last thing he wanted was to expose his moment of vulnerability. "Thanks. Thanks, I really appreciate it." After wiping his hands, he accepted the box and opened it. If this was the time, he would've mentioned that a baked chicken sandwich with eggs just happened to be his favorite, but this wasn't the time.

She took a bite in the chicken sandwich she was holding and studied the frieze he'd been working on. "What'd they ask you to do?"

"Those figures there are supposed to be trees; and between them kids holding hands." He didn't feel like talking, but would rather avoid another emotional episode again. At least, while this secretary was chatting him up, he would be less inclined to think about Ponyboy. In any case it was lunchtime.

"It's really detailed. You did it by memory?"

"No, I'm not an artist, I just used an outline." He began eating his sandwich.

"Gee, I wouldn't have thought so. You see there, when I look at that, I think of my boss." She pointed to the smudged features of one of the children. "You even got him in the picture…gosh."

Darry shook his head. "I saw Mr. Cooper and I guess this resembles him, but that was an accident. There was a tear in the outline, and the paint seeped through." He noticed she had a mild country accent. Maybe she was a Soc, but most likely someone in the middle. She had nice, blue eyes that were doe-shaped and slanted at the corners--sharp and soft at the same time. "You're from the country?"

"My accent's that obvious, huh?" she asked. Her rounded cheeks flushed.

"Where in the country?" he asked.

"Mesa, of Windrixville County, about thirty miles outside Tulsa."

Definitely not a Soc. Virtually all the wealthy landowners of Windrixville County were all-American blondies with blue eyes, sworn-to-God Protestants that used their cutlery European style. The secretary had thick, black hair and a light olive complexion. "It's nice up there. Why'd you move to the city?" If he had the choice, he'd rather live in the middle-of-nowhere than in a souped up neighborhood with class warfare.

The secretary shrugged. "Money. And I got tired of watching cows and corn, I s'ppose. My name's Maria, by the way."

"Darrel, uh, Darry. Nice to meet you."

"Well, I oughta go…later." She smiled, then left.

--

On Wednesday Ponyboy found a stack of old hickorywood that wasn't rotting yet; they stripped blocks of it until their pocketknives were nearly bent into blunt blades. Johnny spent the next couple afternoons between _Gone With the Wind _carving wooden dolls and shapes.

"Hey," Ponyboy called excitedly from the back, "Dal's here! Adrienne too!"

Johnny dropped his whittling and ran to the back of the church. Contact with the outside! Dally thumped him affectionately on the back. Adrienne held him so tight, he thought she'd squeeze the life out of him.

"How's the kid?" Dally asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Good," Johnny said, "real good."

Dally turned to Ponyboy and said, "I got a letter for ya. Then I'll tell ya about how your little hiatus is going on back home."

Adrienne whispered, "We need to talk."

Though she was quiet, Dally snapped over her shoulder, "Can it wait? Look at what the kid's been through and all ready you wanna run your mouth off about your problems. If you weren't his girl, I'd not take you here anyways."

"It's okay Dal," Johnny said, not wanting to take sides. "I'll take just a sec. Okay Adrienne?"

She nodded.

They went to the antechamber of the church, which used to be a chapel, closed off by an ancient wooden door. Adrienne sat on a stool. Johnny was filled with relief, emotion, grief, and guilt, all mixed in one. "I'm awful glad to see y'all. You just don't know."

Adrienne said nothing. He sensed something was wrong. "What happened? You've been worried?" "Yes," she murmured. "But it's more than that."

Adrienne got up from the stool and leaned against the church wall, but stood upright when the boards crumbled through.

"Just tell me," Johnny said in a low voice.

She replied, "There might be a baby, Johnny."

Johnny tensed a little and he put hope in the word "might". "But we were always careful," he said weakly. Was this another trick of nature?

"I don't know." She grasped her shoulders. Her voice was a pathetic squeak. "I was gonna tell you that night and I didn't wanna tell you now but it's better you know than…not too…" She began to cry.

"Aw, dammit, Adrienne," Johnny sighed. "Don't get emotional on me here." He didn't want to be the one to cry too. Of the two of them, he was supposed to know what to do.

"I'm a whore, and you know it," she said accusingly. "You don't think it was you, you think it was somebody else…that I'd do that for money…"

"Stop that." He tried to hug her, but he could tell she was having the onset of a meltdown, but her eyes were turned to him hopefully. For once, his mind was devoid of answers. "I don't know what to do! Don't look at me that way. I don't have the answer this time."

Her fingers clutched at his shirt. She stared into his eyes hungrily seeking answers, something he just couldn't give. With as little force as possible Johnny forced her hands away from him and walked out the room.


	13. Fortnights

**Fortnights**

_A Fortnight Later_

In the space of a fortnight Johnny landed himself in the middle of the past, which he couldn't change, and a future, which would be bleak, and a bleak present.

He lay on his hospital bed in immense pain, and even when he was sleeping, the painkillers could only reduce the sensations to a dull ache. When he woke up, it was bad, but sometimes tolerable, especially when the gang stopped to visit. He kept whispering, "Stay gold, stay gold." Adrienne didn't come, but he wanted to see her, and he wasn't ashamed of her. "Stay gold, stay gold."

According to the nurses (who were a little more sympathetic to Johnny's curiosity than the doctors were), the church fire left third-degree burns over parts of his face, neck, upper arms, torso, and upper thighs. The problem now, they explained, was preventing infection. Without them saying so, he figured out what would happen if infection set in. He remembered his biology teacher, a very twitchy but interesting lady who focused obsessively on the bacteria kingdom. She ran through terms and theories too fast for Johnny to grasp in specifics, but at the end of the semester he understood that the most microscopic of creatures can bring down even the mightiest.

And a fortnight later, things were finally turning around.

The doctors commented on his quick improvement. They lowered his antibiotic medication and lowered his status. He was doing well, they said, and would be out in a few more weeks or so.

A few more weeks. Not good, Johnny thought. A while ago, through his sleep, he heard Ponyboy mention an arraignment…pressing charges…something like that?

"I'm in trouble, ain't I?" Johnny murmured weakly.

Ponyboy stared at his friend, aghast that he heard. He didn't want to say anything about the charges.

Johnny struggled to speak. There were burns along his jaw as well. "Just--tell me. Tell me."

"Yeah," Pony finally admitted. "But don't worry yourself about it none…"

"Tell Adrienne to come?"

"She won't. She's too scared."

"She has to." Johnny remembered how, in the church, he had to push her away. It wasn't her fault that she was having a meltdown because of his action; she either loved people to death or hated them with passion and fear. But she had to come. "She has to. She has to."

Ponyboy felt this task was impossible. The last he saw of Adrienne, she was stumbling--maybe drunk--in some old white shed. When he came to help her, she cursed him until the words came out like fire. It was a rainy day, a gloomy day.

But Johnny woke up on the first day of the third week able to move his left fingers a little. The second miracle was Adrienne's appearance that same day.

"Hi," she said shyly.

Johnny would have smiled, but it was too painful. "Hi."

She gave him a white box with a card tied to it. "Chocolates," she said. "Your favorite."

Really, his favorite was pistachio, not chocolate, but Johnny liked it anyway. They talked a few awkward minutes, and then he said, "I still want to do this right."

Adrienne tensed and shook her head. Her eyes were wider and bolded only because she hadn't gotten much sleep. "How? We're still sixteen. We've got nowhere to go. And no money. And you…" she stopped herself. She didn't want to remind him that if convicted, they might never see each other again anyway. "They have good homes, you know…"

"_No_," Johnny insisted. He struggled to sit up and lean on his unburned right elbow, but it was still painful to move. There was no reason for a kid to grow up like either him or her. There was no reason a kid should have parents that fight more than they take a glance at their son. There was no reason a kid should fear the guardians meant to protect her. He didn't want to continue the cycle. "I said _no_."

Her lips pursed tightly.

"C'mon, Adrienne. What you…_fear_…most is the unknown!" Johnny gasped, half-crying out and half-laughing.

"You're going to jail!" she shouted back, crying. "It'll be easy for you to tell me what's right! What'll I do when you're not around and I'm stuck? Even now, do you know what I'll have to do eventually? When my aunt and uncle find out, that's it for me. What will I do then?"

"You ask the gang to help you," Johnny snapped back through his teeth, which were clenched in pain. "They're there to help you as much as I would. And you know that. You have to agree, Adrienne."

--

Thanks for the reviews :D

I actually think the fic is extremely corny…I'd rather be a nun than have a relationship like this. And there was no way I was gonna put in a proposal…it's just too sappy, even for Caught in the Rain...

I think there will be two or three more chapters, and then Caught in the Rain is officially: _PUBLISHED!_


	14. The Weight of Judgment

**The Weight of Judgment**

Sorry for the long wait…it's been a while.

Ahem--Johnny's fate is being decided here. The following excerpt is from the Book of Judges:

"_Extolled above women be Yael,_

_Evil Sisera asked for water, she gave him milk;_

…_She stretched forth her hand to the nail,_

_Her right hand to the workman's hammer,_

_And she smote Sisera; she crushed his head,_

_She crashed through and transfixed his temples…_

_And where he curled himself, let it be, there he fell dead._"

Believe it or not, this form of justice is Biblical. But don't let it scare you!! Keep reading.

--

The courtroom was devoid of any light except for plastic florescent lights. Cherry Valence wrung her pale hands nervously. Had she done enough? Did she say too little, or too much? The Judge was coming, everyone had to stand up. She could barely lift her knees. Randy asked if she was okay, if she needed water. No, I'm fine she said, but she felt sick.

"All be seated."

She collapsed on the bench, her arms shaking. Johnny was there, tense with fear. It had only been a few months since his recovery, and the burns still scared his face, neck, and arms. What if he ended up in jail, that poor boy? Cherry looked over her shoulder. His gang watched with almost no facial expression, but Cherry could feel their anxiousness, their agitation. Ponyboy could not hide his emotion so easily and looked away. There was his girlfriend Adrienne, sitting almost to the back, with her head resting against Sodapop's shoulder. The girl was like a ghost. Cherry remembered the day witnesses were cross-examined, and Adrienne could barely speak in her whisper of a voice. Poor girl; she was showing, and everybody noticed.

Cherry heaved a shuddering sigh.

"Does the jury have a verdict?"

Meanwhile Randy asked, "Are you sick?"

"Yes," Cherry said with anticipation, though not to Randy.

He looked at her with concern. She wasn't even looking at him. "Cherry?"

"I'm fine," she said impatiently, praying for Johnny. There was the jury. A panel of nine: six men, three women. Cherry recognized half of them as her North-side neighbors; the other four were frequent names in the town paper and only one was middle-class. What did they know? Did they know their own sons chased boys like Johnny down the street, armed with Mustangs and busted beer bottles and switchblades? Did they know of boys like Johnny who had no choice but to kill so they wouldn't die? What did they know about boys like these who would grow old before their time, having children as children and facing a jail sentence as long as the cinder blocks themselves. What did they know? She wanted to scream it out loud.

What do you know?

An eternity passed before there was a "Yes, Your Honor, there is a verdict."

Cherry's hands shivered. Oh God, she prayed.

What was he looking at?

Second-degree murder, was it?

_Yes_, she told herself.

Would his soul deteriorate the rest of his life in jail, or would they kill him like a lamb in a slaughterhouse? _I didn't do enough_, her mind shouted. _I didn't do enough_. _I shouldn't have cried for Bob. I should've said he was a worse off idiot than he really was. _She could hardly breathe.

Randy offered her a Dixie cup with water. "Drink," he encouraged her. "It's okay."

"No," she protested.

"You're sick, Cherry."

"I can't hear, stop talking."

"Nobody's talking."

The Judge boomed, "What say you?"

Who was she to pity someone like Johnny? Could she have the courage to kill somebody out to kill her? The jury would not let him off, even if he didn't deserve jail. The jury members were all from the same walk; they would all see that boy as just some hoodlum who needed to be locked up. They would be doing their squeaky white fences and long verandas and azalea bushes a favor. Poor Johnny. But he proved them wrong. He was not a hood. He was not a hood. She lifted her shaking hands to her face, but could barely feel it.

"We…"

"Cherry." Randy was worried. She was sick. Who was she to deserve a better life than Johnny and be only half as noble?

"…members of the jury…"

Her arms wrenched themselves from Randy's comforting but firm grasp. No, leave me alone, she kept saying. Leave me alone. _I haven't done enough_, she said to herself over and over again. _I haven't done enough. _What would happen to him? Would they kill him? If they didn't, how long would it take before he withered into a shell of a man while in jail? What would happen to Adrienne and their little boy or girl? Would the kid grow up like Johnny--or worse?

"It's all right," Randy kept saying.

No, no, Cherry thought.

"…find Johnny M. Cade…"

_You haven't done enough_, she heard them saying. Voices beyond the courtroom. _You haven't done enough_. She looked at the judge, feeling sick. His gravel was replaced with a sword; she was dizzy. Who was standing in the corner? The One who would judge her? Would He punish her for not doing enough? Both of them knew Johnny was too innocent to be punished.

"…guilty…"

"No," Cherry choked. "No--no--he's not guilty! He's not guilty!" She kept choking. _I haven't done enough. I haven't done enough_.

The courtroom was in disarray. The everything around Cherry was spinning. Randy couldn't restrain her. This wasn't justice. Johnny didn't deserve this. He didn't commit murder. She choked with horror, and couldn't stop, couldn't breathe, couldn't live. She was on the cold floor and unconscious when the last part of the verdict was read:

"…of manslaughter."

She had been right; according to the jury, Johnny hadn't committed murder.

--

Johnny looked over his shoulder worriedly. Cherry snapped. Amidst the din, his lawyer nudged him in the elbow. "Consider yourself lucky. Five years, no more, and it could be three or four if you keep on good behavior."

"Please, someone call the ambulance to escort the young lady at once!" the judge shouted over the commotion. "And those of you who have no idea what you're doing, keep out the way!"

"But you're a good kid," the attorney went on.

He wished he could thank Cherry. She had really given her everything to prove him innocent, even though she didn't have to, even though her parents virtually disowned her for speaking publicly about a very unbecoming trial. He hoped she was okay. "Can I say goodbye to everyone, Mr. Green?"

Green had been watching the ambulance prepare Cherry's gurney. "Huh?"

Johnny repeated himself. Green scratched his head thoughtfully. "Oh. Huh. Let me come with you."

The gang was there the whole time. Even when his back was turned, Johnny knew they were there. The fist hand to grasp his shoulder tight was Dally's; the expression on his face wrestled with pride and anguish. He was the only one who could get a word in without choking up, as Cherry had done. "Take--take care of yourself kid. Keep your head low, and if somebody tries to mess with you--"--he jerked his fist upwards--"you crack 'em like that. Then drop my name. That'll teach 'em."

"I'll be fine, Dal."

Ponyboy tried to say something meaningful, but it came out wrong. "We'll write, Johnnycake."

Johnny had to laugh as well as write back. _I'm going on a long trip_, he thought, _to an island I've never seen._

Even Two-Bit and Sodapop couldn't find the right words to say goodbye, but Johnny would later remember his friend made him laugh before they took him away. Darry and Steve thumped him on the back. They all promised to help with Adrienne and the kid.

Adrienne came last. "Please take care of yourself," she said tearfully. Johnny hugged her. He noticed her ring from the corner of his eye; had she worn it because it was a convenient afterthought? Back in the hospital, months ago, he reminded her, "You have to agree, Adrienne."

_You have to agree…_

_You have to agree…_

The next morning she came back. "I agree," she said mournfully.

What had happened? Was everything going the way it was supposed to? No, Johnny thought. They had the civil papers but no church; they had rings, but rings bought from a dime store, not a diamond store. Still there was more than the superficial proof that was amiss. Would they last five years? He hoped so. She was still the girl he could understand without either of them saying a word.

"Let's go," Mr. Green said impatiently. "You'll have a moment some other time."

_Some other time_.

Johnny looked at the shackles on his wrists.

_Some other time these will be gone_.

He and Adrienne exchanged looks.

_Some other time we'll be the same again._

_--_

Will they last?

TBA in the epilogue, coming soon!!


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Finally! The end! The epilogue takes place about four/five years after the book.

Sorry about the lack of clarity here and the time it took to clear up; I have updated.

--

At the corner of Wesley and Durham, Mr. Bradshaw pulled up to a shabby apartment complex beaten up with graffiti and flaky plaster walls. Most of the windows were broken. A heated argument simmered in one apartment. He was used to representing these kind of people, not much for money, but out of obligation to the human race. Still he did not want to be here too long, and if she didn't come soon he would just go see his client alone.

Five minutes after the main door opened. A scantily clad lady strutted out and went to the payphone. Bradshaw watched her. She was all long bare legs, blonde hair (dark brown roots), and piercing gray eyes. Surely he knew her before. More than once they exchanged glances, as she pretended to talk on the payphone, twirling a curled end of fake blonde hair. He almost balked when she approached him at the curb.

"M-may I help you ma'am?" he said evenly.

"Can you spare a girl a nickel hon?"

Just as his hand involuntarily reached in his pocket, which jingled with change, he barked, "No." Nickel--nowadays wasn't that some kind of innuendo? She had to be pretty bold to proposition him even in these parts, as it was broad daylight and law enforcement liked to comb this area of its hookers and druggies and little hoodlums, all of whom seemed to breed faster and faster every day.

The woman laughed. "Are ya or ain't ya?"

"I--I am. Here." He dropped a nickel in her hand. "Sorry." He peered at her more closely. It had been a long time, since he'd seen her, but--could it--be? Could times have gotten that hard for her? "Adrienne, is that y--?"

She walked away. The main door opened again, and this time the lady he'd been expecting appeared with a little boy in tow. "I'm so sorry Mr. Bradshaw," she said apologetically, trying to smooth her untidy hair. Bradshaw let out a sigh of relief and said, "Quite all right, let's just go now."

"Thank-you for doing this," Adrienne said humbly.

The little boy toddled in the backseat. Adrienne was looking haggard, but better than usual these days. She didn't necessarily look older than she was, but her face had acquired a usual hopeless expression in her baggy eyes, which were still gray and piercing. He pitied her. So young and made to suffer so much. He told her she looked better these days.

"Oh, it's been all right I suppose," she sighed. "I've been visiting Dallas a lot."

"My uncle," the boy chirped.

Bradshaw nodded. Not yet twenty-five and yet buried in the ground because he wrangled with the wrong Soc. Bradshaw hadn't time to visit his former client's grave, and he knew the reckless young man would end up like that. One could say he had it coming, but it was no less tragic. "How's--um--the Curtis boys?"

"The best of us, I think, they're all together. Ponyboy's going to the state college. His brothers still visit--almost every weekend, too."

"Y'all's family?"

"Far away, where they ought to be."

"And Keith?"

"Who?"

"Er--he had a nickname--?"

"Two-Bit. He still comes around now and then."

"My other uncle," said the boy.

Adrienne smiled at her son. "Two-Bit's always giving us a laugh. He says he's looking about getting his G.E.D., but we'll see what happens."

"Mr. Randle?"

"Going through a rough time. I don't rightly now. But he never got on well with his dad."

Mr. Bradshaw glanced in the rear-view mirror, at the little boy's face. "And this one? How old are you now, little fella?" When the boy was too shy to answer, Adrienne said, "Jack's nearly four."

"Looks just like John."

They talked for a long while, until the road became an endless stretch beside cornfields and old tractors. It was more than an hour before they reached the prison. There was a lot of waiting before they could see Johnny in the courtyard.

"Ma, why do we hafta _wait_?" Jack complained, swinging his arms.

"Well we're not the only ones," Adrienne chastised him sharply. "Daddy's gonna see us today."

Daddy? He was almost obscure, Jack hardly remembered him. He lived in prison all the time, Mama said, because he did something bad a long time ago. She was always frantic to add what he did was not his fault, and she would explain more when Jack was a big boy. My world is with Mommy--holding unto her dress and sucking my thumb, getting candy from Uncle Pony, being tossed by Uncle Soda and Two-Bit, playing stickball with Fred and the Miley boys, pounding his fist in the wall when Mommy said no, honey, we have no money to fix that. There was no money a lot of the time, and not enough of Mommy and uncles combined to relieve that problem or the familiar, hungering ache in Jack's belly. They would always be short on the rent and never save enough to buy the bike he wanted. If Daddy lived here all the time, what difference would he make?

Mr. Bradshaw offered Jack a stick of chewing gum, which he liked. It tasted like rubbery mint. I want to go home, he thought. I want to go home. He bounced his rubber ball and walked backwards, filled with boredom.

He bumped into someone's knee and looked up.

Adrienne lifted her head and saw Johnny. He was still tall and slight, too skinny for the baggy orange prison clothes. His hair hadn't been long and greased in years, because inmates were required to shave their hair close to the scalp. That--combined with the lost weight that thinned his face and the old scar on his cheek, made him look meaner and tougher than he really was, although his eyes penetrated with solemnity. Jack looked up at Johnny and froze. A stranger.

Johnny's thin lips broadened in a tight smile.

"Mommy!" Jack cried.

Bradshaw watched as Adrienne scolded her son, who clutched to her skirt. The young prisoner knelt, reached in his pocket, and offered Jack a candy bar. "Here. You'll like it."

Constant hunger was evident in the boy's quick reach for the chocolate, something Bradshaw had noticed when he gave the boy a chewing gum. Bradshaw felt guilty. He ought to take them to McDonalds on the way back. Johnny ran his bony hands through the boy's hair, still grinning. Bradshaw could hardly believe his client was barely twenty-and-some-months old. The only innocence Johnny had left in him was bequeathed to his son, who was gradually becoming aware of what it meant to be poor and hungry.

Finally Johnny stood up and rested his hands on Adrienne's shoulders, smiling. Adrienne smiled. Bradshaw clapped Johnny on the shoulder affectionately: "Well, you've just one week left, buddy. How's it feel?"

"Good," Johnny said as though it were the most obvious answer. It was. Everything could be normal now. He would have freedom. He would have a decent job, because Darry gave him a list of useful contacts. Adrienne wouldn't have to work and Jack would go to school with the bright pencils and composition notebooks and crayons Johnny never got to have for himself. They wouldn't have a lot of money, perhaps not even enough of it, but they would eat well and everything would be good. He looked back at Adrienne.

"I'll give you a minute," Bradshaw said, stepping outside.

In the silence of the courtyard Jack bounced his rubber ball. The courtyard's high, cinderblock walls seemed to apply pressure to the meeting. Johnny gripped her shoulders, as though to keep her from drifting away from him emotionally again. But her eyes looked hopeless. He pleaded, "Please say you'll still be with me when I leave here. Please, Adrienne."

Her lips tightened nervously. "I can't do this anymore, Johnny. Every time we drift apart, we come together again, and then drift apart."

"Because it's tough times, that's all. Everything'll be all right, like always."

Then, in a sudden fit of anger, she wrenched her shoulders away from him and murmured sharply, "No it won't!" With difficulty, she tried to explain. "We were teenagers, Johnny, we made a mistake. Love has nothing to do with saving the day."

"That's not true," he said, drawing back. "You have to have faith."

"Faith? Do you know how _hard_ I've had to work these years? What did faith have to do with it? Keeping stuff in the fridge, paying rent…I've done it all, and I can't do it anymore."

But he would not let her quit. He had seen for himself in prison how lack of faith could make life bitter. There was still a ring on his hand, and he would soon noticed that she still wore hers. She was not quitting now, he said. "You can't walk away, you have to have faith. I know how hard you've worked because of me. But I swear we're not gonna suffer like we did before."

"Let me go, Johnny."

"No. Listen to me, please."

"Get away from me! I can't take it anymore!"

Jack's ball landed in front of her. The little boy ran up to her and held up the ball proudly. "Look Mommy!"

"I said I can't take it anymore!" she screamed at Jack, storming across the hallway. The other visitors stared at her momentarily. Mr. Bradshaw looked worried. Johnny clenched his fists in distress. He picked up Jack, who looked confused, and muttered to his son comfortingly. Then he asked Bradshaw in concern, "How is she?"

"I've'n't seen her that often. But she should be okay," he added in assurance. "It's normal, in the time around release, that the family should have some strain because of adjustment and old wounds. Just give her time to vent, and time will do its job in healing. Now, we should explain next week and the coming months for you Mr. Cade. If you would," he added apologetically, glancing at Jack, who sat in the crook of his father's arm.

"Yes, but my son will stay here," Johnny calmly explained.

Bradshaw shrugged. "Whatever suits you. Okay. The release won't be complicated, and after that you have some hours of counseling--this is court-ordered, so you must attend."

Johnny nodded, but he was distracted by a few sparrows chirping in a nest tucked in the corner of a courtyard window. A rushing sense filled him--excitement, and something else he couldn't put his finger on. This was a new day coming.

Then suddenly, commotion filled the building. Bradshaw and Johnny peered inside to see what was the rush. The guards dashed up the staircase and elevators, shouting over the static of their walkie-talkie devices--which broadcast that a young woman was in the 4th floor female bathroom window.

Johnny's heart sank in horror. He set Jack on his feet and dashed behind a line of guards. _Have faith_! He begged her in mind, but there was nothing to be good. He pushed past the guards, skipped steps to the 4th floor, and burst into the women's bathroom. No-one was in the window. No, he thought, terrified, no, Adrienne, not this. He needed to know. And leaning out the window, he realized that the bathroom was immediately above and facing the courtyard, where his son was standing next to Mr. Bradshaw, bouncing a miniature ball.

"We've got her!"

He heard shouts from the nearby bathroom, where two gaurds were wrestling her out. Adrienne shrieked. Johnny's heart was pained to see her so distraught. Her hands had been reduced to bony fists and she could barely stand on her two feet although the lustre in her eyes was the same as ever. Her screams had caused quite a commotion; even the gaurds were staring, and a doctor from the prison's psych ward had been called to soothe the situation. Johnny tried to calm her down, but it was only until she had been given a heavy sedative injection that they could subdue her. The doctor asked if Johnny was her brother. He corrected the doctor.

"I see," said the doctor.

Not long after that Bradshaw hurried up the stair landing with Jo sitting on the staircase with his toy ball. Bradshaw grasped Johnny's shoulder. His client's expression had gone rigid.

"Has she done anything like this before?" the doctor asked.

"No," Johnny said in a tight voice. "Not that I know of." He looked at Bradshaw, who said he didn't know if Adrienne had.

"Well, I don't know her case, but this very bad," the doctor said. "She belongs in a hospital."

Johnny glanced at Jo, who was unaware of what was going on, and then at his unconcious wife. _Have I another case on my hands_? Bradshaw groaned inwardly. But the poor woman could not belong in the world, caring for a four year old boy if she was going to be jumping out of bathroom windows. She needed a hospital.

"Son," the doctor said, "did you hear me? I said your wife belongs in a hospital. She's very sick."

Johnny nodded.

"Yes, she does. Take her there."

_--_

_That's the end…---(now clarified...sorry it took a while :P)--_

_:D thanks for ur support _


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